Game of Queens
by xXOnceInALifeTimeGirlxX
Summary: Game of thrones crossover. Jane Seymour does not give birth to Prince Edward but to a daughter and King Henry is desperate for an alliance, with Europe turning their backs on him, he will do just about everything. His council comes with the solution -give his daughter in marriage to the widowed King of Westeros.
1. Bad beginning

_"Do not profane your daughter by making her a prostitute, so that the land may not become prostituted and full of depravity." -Leviticus 19._

Mary begged her father not to marry her to Robert Baratheon. "I will do everything." She said but he sent her anyway.

Jane was there carrying her train. In spite of being her stepmother, she chose to lower herself for her. Jane had not yet delivered a son and this had put her in a delicate position since her child, unlike her and Elizabeth was not beautiful or healthy. It was whispered her father was already looking for wife number 4.

Mary said the vows, following by the traditional Catholic vows of fidelity and humility to her new husband. Robert was too drunk to understand but he said them either way.

He could barely stand on his two feet but he eyed her with lust. The years had not been too kind on him. He wanted to marry Lyanna Stark but the Targaryen Prince had stolen her from him then Jon Arryn forced him to marry Cersei Lannister.

Marry her. They said. It will be good for ye, they said. Robert didn't care at the time. What was another pretty face from another? As long as he didn't have his Lyanna, he would never be happy and Cersei, he considered her a self-conceited bitch. She was too high and mighty for his taste. He didn't want a woman to tell him what to do, he wanted someone he could command and be there when he needed her to be there, someone who wouldn't complain when he wanted to fuck her. And Gods knew, Cersei Lannister always complained.

Arrogant bitch. He was glad she was dead.

But her death had left a whole on the monarchy. She had given birth four times and only two of those babies had survived the ordeal of childbirth and Cersei, like her last child, had not been lucky.

So that is what he had, one four year old son who took after him in every way except on his eyes, he had his mother's eyes. Green, a color he had come to detest and he joked with his ministers that his boy's eyes reminded him of the color of piss.

The boy also had his mother's temperament. When he made that joke, he had stood up and reproached him, remarking before a room of hundreds that it was him who should be grateful he had inherited something of his mother, otherwise he would be a drunken fool like him.

Robert smacked him. Everyone saw his actions with disapproval but what did he care what the people thought? He was King, wasn't he? And being King could mean he could do whatever the bloody hell he wanted.

He had not lost all of his good looks. He was still fit and while his waist was thickening, he wasn't considered fat by any means. His new bride should consider herself lucky and stop making that grim expression. It wasn't like he was going to rape her -unless she gave him reason to.

Robert slurred through the last line of his vows then put the cape on her shoulders signifying that she was now under his protection. After the High Septon and her Bishop pronounced them man and wife they went to Hampton's Great Hall where they feasted for hours. Her father spared no expense and her stepmother wanted her to have the best experience before the consummation.

"It will be painful the first time but you get used to it." Jane said. She sat in between her stepdaughter and her eldest brother, Edward.

Edward looked at the former Princess with almost no interest. He didn't like attending these social functions but knew there were necessary to keep appearances and show their family's wealth. His attention turned to the King. He was conversing with his new paramour, Ursula Misseldon.

It made him angry. The King had a beautiful woman in his sister; Jane had given him everything, attention, a beautiful daughter. What more could he want?

A son, Edward knew but he refused to acknowledge the reason in his head for once. He didn't care if Jane gave him a hundred daughters, as long as she was safe. Unlike what everyone thought, he was not made of ice. He was aware they called him the Ice Prince, but he did care for his sister. More than any of his other siblings, Jane had a special place in his heart. She was the only one who ever understood him and whom he didn't need to lie or pour his heart out so she would have sympathy for him. She knew what bothered him, and vice-verse he knew what bothered her.

'Poor Jane' He thought. His sister had a good heart but you don't get ahead in this life with a good heart. If Jane didn't give a son to the King soon, he would take his wrath on her the same way he took it on Anne Boleyn.

He turned away from the disgusting view and poured himself more wine. He was interrupted in his merry drinking by the King of Westeros who for some reason thought it interesting to speak to him of all people. "Your Grace." He said. "What an honor. I hope the festivities are to your liking." He said with a smile.

"Aye very much." He said then barked with laughter. "It seems you English are more merrier than the other European folk. You can't find meat and merriment such as these in other places. I might just steal some of these customs!"

"With all pleasure Your Grace, it would be an honor." He said thinking this bloody oaf looked more disgusting when he was eating and talking at the same time.

"I told my small council they must be mad when they told me I had to marry the English wench. She wasn't royal anymore. Her father had disowned her but you know council members, you sure are pushy."

"Yes, we are." Ned said, trying to retain his smile and the vile from escaping from his throat but it was becoming harder with every word the King spurted out and every piece of food he shoveled down his throat.

He slapped the Viscount of Beauchamp's back. "Ha, ha, you really are an annoying kind, false as the weasels from whence you came but somehow we can't kill you, or else who would we have to blame for our mistakes?"

"So, what can you tell me about my new wife? Is she in good in bed as her mother?"

"Pardon Your Grace?"

"Her mother. Yeah, you know the Spanish concubine, everyone knows she and the Prince got to know each other intimately."

Ned did not want to respond. He had nothing but respect for the King's eldest daughter and her mother. He had not known the Princess Dowager personally but his sister had and she always spoke good of the time she was in her service. The way this man spoke of her infuriated him. And it no doubt infuriated her daughter as well who had heard her husband railing insults at her mother.

Jane grasped her hand and gave a warning glance that said no to whatever she wanted to do. Mary stayed put and obeyed, just as the dutiful daughter she always said she was, closing her fists, listening to every word her husband said about her mother.

"The Princess Dowager was a good an honest woman, what she did was out of love, and love is not the best or the most reasonable of emotions. It is proven her marriage to the King was unlawful due to her previous union with his late brother, but that by no means Her Grace's mother was immoral or sinful."

"Eh, fanciful words. We have another good career man in you. I should congratulate the King for marrying into a scheming family, if your hair is as gold as your ambition and your wisdom as well thought of your words, you are on a good path of arse-licking and riches." He drank more. "Queen Catherine's only mistake was in not giving the boy a healthy son. Give the King sons, my father in law always said to my first wife Cersei. Give the King sons and he will love you. Ha! What a hypocrisy. I never heard more idiotic thought. Give Kings sons, he will love you. If that were true I would have been madly in love with Cersei since the start of our marriage. Four babies, you know that? Four babes ..." He sighed then chuckled again. "Four suckling ugly babes yearning for love and their mother's tits. I couldn't touch her after the last, how could I when she was crying and screaming?"

"I can assure you, Your Grace, your new wife is of a tougher sort. No disrespect to your late wife, may God and your Gods preserve her soul."

"Aye, the Gods, bloody lot." He said and Ned thought he heard sadness in his voice but it was gone the next moment when the King screamed for more wine. And his father in law joined him.

Mary drew blood from so much squeezing. She was not marrying a Prince or a King worthy of her but a monster no different than her father. When everyone shouted "To bed! To Bed! To Bed!" Mary had to push back her tears and steel herself.

Her maids helped her undress and put on her a simple nightgown. When her husband came, wearing nothing but his leather pants, she gulped. He took her face in his hands and said there was no one they needed to worry but themselves. They were soothing words but they did nothing to soothe her.

What if this man raped her or tossed her aside like her father did with her mother?

Robert dismissed all of their witnesses. Cranmer, a man she had a deep hatred for, looked at her with equal hatred. He hoped the sinful woman's daughter would learn her lesson and submit to this man. The sooner she did, the more pain she would be spared.

Robert scooped his wife in his arms and dumped her in the bed. He helped her to take off her clothes then took his. He was tender with her and Mary enjoyed it, until he began to be rough and she screamed and he slapped her and told her to be quiet.

"Please, no more." She begged but he slapped her again. She cried harder, closing her eyes shut as she felt the hard length of his passage. She could feel herself fading and she didn't know what she hated more, that he was raping her or that she was starting to enjoy it.


	2. The dream lives in you

_The Court still sees me as a foreigner and my husband as a breeding machine._ Mary gazed down at her feet. Gliding like an angel from heaven she and Robert were led to Joffrey's chambers.

Joffrey paced back and forth. He was supposed to meet his father's new Queen. He had been shielded from her for the past three years since his birth. He didn't know what to think -what he should think. I am King, or will be someday. It doesn't matter what she thinks of me but what I think of her.

His father rarely visited him and when he did it was always to tell him he did something wrong. Joffrey wondered if there was ever something he should do right. He admired the man, he was a conqueror, a man of valor. Someday I want to be like him.

His door opened and his father walked in. Behind him was his new wife, his stepmother. Joffrey did the usual curtsey. The Queen approached him and raised his chin. Joffrey felt a warm touch, but he was annoyed. Nobody touched him without his approval. He was about to shout that at her when he closed his mouth.

"You're beautiful."

Mary chuckled giving him a discreet smile afterwards. "Thank you, my lord Prince, you are not so bad yourself. You will get more handsome as you get older."

Joffrey smiled, pleased with the compliment but also pleased by the affection she showed him.

She was more beautiful than he had imagined. The former Princess of England stood two head shorter than his father who had once been the tallest man in the seven kingdoms but had shrunk back as his weight expanded and his back became slightly crooked by it.  
"You happy now?" His father interrupted. "You got to see the boy now let's go."

"My lord I thought I could stay longer. I should get to know the Prince..."

"Should? Nobody is asking what you think woman. I let you see the boy so there you saw him. Now let's go." He grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly to him.

Joffrey watched as she involuntarily went with him. It was so cruel -Joffrey thought- that his joy should be cut so short. His father was a man of wisdom, the bravest fighter in the seven kingdoms but courage and wisdom it seemed do not go hand in hand with love. Songs about his mother and her beauty were sang to him before he had the use of reason, he memorized them all but they never made him feel any closer to her. True, she had been the handsomest woman in the seven kingdoms and possibly the world, but to Joffrey she was just a vague memory. She died shortly after giving birth to him. The only real thing he had to remember her by was his appearance which was the same as every Lannister.

The woman that appeared today while not a golden beauty as the women in her family, was nonetheless a beauty, albeit of a different kind.

She had the grace and humility that made a Queen a good Queen. Joffrey hated how her father grabbed her and told her she couldn't stay. She clearly cared for him, she didn't see him as other courtiers saw him, a tool to get their favors by. She actually cared for him.

* * *

Mary was sorry she could not spend more time with him. He seemed like a jolly little fellow, eager to please everybody. Mary envied her predecessor. She left something to be remembered by while Mary had nothing. Empty cradles and empty promises. Two miscarriages and another on the way.

Her husband was getting tired of her and so was her father. He reminded her that if she failed so would the alliance and he didn't know about her but nobody liked a Princess -and a bastard one at that- that failed. She would not be welcomed with open arms but tossed back into a ship to Westeros or God knows what other forsaken place.

Mary had all her hopes invested on this unborn creature. If it was a boy it would double her prospects. She would remain Robert's Queen and be pampered (she hoped) beyond her wildest dreams, just as her stepmother had when she had been pregnant with Edward. But if she didn't and if this was another miscarriage or worse, a girl ...

She didn't want to think of it. More than anything, it was Robert's wrath she feared more than her father's. Her father's love could be bought with compliment, sweet words, empty promises, he was that fallible! And money of course! That had always been his incentive. When he married her mother, when he went to war with France, when the Emperor proposed an alliance between her and the Prince of Portugal. But Robert was another matter entirely. The man only knew of sex and war. He had an appetite for it. He still lunged for his golden years when he could wield his war hammer to crush men's skulls. But those days were long gone now all he had was his fatness and his money, the latter which served him well so the ladies could look past this defect and come willingly into his bed.

It was said -It was said -so the saying went that Robert never took a woman against her will but everyone who knew Robert knew it to be untrue.

Robert took what he wanted when he wanted. He was limitless. Just like her father.

Mary placed her hands on her midsection. "Hear that?" She asked. "I hope you never turn a monster like your father."

I hope you never turn like any of the monsters in my family as well. There were many monsters in her family, more than in Robert's. With such a distinguished ancestry, what life could that child hope for? It's blood would be tainted by his father's sins and hers. She should have never signed that document declaring her mother's marriage to her father null. She had never forgiven herself for it but Eustace promised that a dispensation would be granted just as soon as she was Queen but that ship quickly set sail when her stepmother gave birth to a son and lived to tell the tale to give birth to many more.

Her sin had finally come up to haunt her in the form of her child. It would exact vengeance through him. No son of the House of Tudor and Baratheon, she believed could turn out good.

* * *

"Your Majesty." Edward said.

"What is it?" Henry asked taking the letter from him after dismissing his other councilors. His men did not like the Seymour's rise to power but they could say nothing. Their sister had done what no one else had, and for that they deserved their rewards. Henry finished the letter and looked up at his brother-in-law. "Is this true? When?"

"This spring, last month to be exact. The King thought it better you should wait until he made sure the child was healthy."

"Yes, yes of course. I sympathize with him. Tell him we congratulate him on his new offspring and extend our felicitations to the Queen as well. Hertford!"

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Send something expensive." Edward nodded and left.

Katherine of Aragon's daughter had done well. By giving the King a son she had not only secured her position but her father's as well. Now the Tudors could boast fecundity even in their daughters. Suddenly the prominence for Elizabeth had risen as well. If the daughter of a barren Queen could have one healthy boy surely she could as well.

There were offers from all over, France, Florence, Germany, Spain of all places! That offered their Princes' hands in marriage. Her father began to consider her for the first time and kept her close.

Elizabeth, God in Heaven, Tudor, Princess of her father's reign, lady of the King's heart once more. She was his first priority after Edward and after Edward his greatest bargaining tool.

Who could deny her greatness now? The Kings in Europe were in a tough bid for her hand. The Dauphin's son, young and sickly Francois and his younger brothers who'd entered the age of reason wrote endless letters to her proclaiming their love and their eternal devotion to her person and her noble virtues.

The King in Spain, Archduke of Austria and Holy Roman Empire, the most powerful man in Christendom considered her worthy of his firstborn, Philip of Asturias.

The cards had turned in Henry's youngest daughter's favor. She was Princess at last. In all but name.

* * *

May day came, the celebrations were couples would engage in sexual liberty with women pursuing men instead of the other way around. Mary gazed out from her window in her lonely chamber in the Red Keep. Today her husband had announced she was pregnant (again). Cruel fate or punishment for proving him wrong. He had given her the chambers of her lying-in in Maegor's fast, otherwise known as Maegor the cruel. Where so many men and women had stayed before they were smothered in their beds.

She wheeled around. Her daughter was being watched over by the best nannies the kingdoms had to offer. With her was her own head governess, her once head governess -her mind corrected- before her father sent her away. Margaret Pole, Countess of Salisbury. It had been an honor to be moved to a solitary confinement where she would be cloistered from the world and the awful news of her sons' executions. She whispered the day they came for her that before she died, she wanted a priest to confess all her sins. But her father in all his great mercy spared her. He sent her to his daughter Mary who had spoken ardently in her defense.

Both were shocked when they found their father had agreed to her demands. He was not a man altruistic in nature though he liked everyone to think so. He sent her packing on the day that was to be her execution. Still grieving her sons, she believed she would not have the strength nor the will to go on living. But upon seeing the girl that had once meant so much to her, her late friend's daughter, all her weakness dissolved and was replaced with resolve.

Her sons were gone. Henry Pole had been cruelly executed by an inexperienced axeman and Geoffrey Pole and Reginald (who'd been kidnapped by the King's henchmen Sir Francis and Sir Thomas Seymour, the Queen's brother) suffered similar, albeit less painful, fates. The only family she had left now was Mary whose blood through her paternal grandmother, made her a Yorkist just like Margaret and just like her, the York dream could still live on. Mary was after all of a greater lineage than all her siblings and the Westeros noble families combined. If God had willed her to live it was to look after Mary and her brood and Margaret swore that as long as he had breath in this old body nothing would harm her _daughter__. _

Children were not allowed in the Queen's lying in chambers but Robert made an exception for her.

_For me._ Mary smirked. Likely it was to punish her for succeeding where he wanted her to fail. After all, what is a worse punishment than having a Queen whom the populace loves, who emulates the virtues of chastity, love, and charity to replace the image of your sainted lost feral love?

Mary hated Lyanna with all her heart. Just the name conjured dark passions of her of anger, hatred and resentment. Her only daughter looked just like her, taking after her mother's Spanish heritage of dark hair, pale blue eyes, and fair skin. But nobody saw that, those who had known this wolf girl of Robert's said she looked exactly as Lyanna had done. They all spoke of it often when the King was present, just to see how she would handle it while their Grace exploded in outrage.

"Kathryn my love don't be playing with those soldiers. They are your brother's, you know how angry he gets when he finds teeth marks on them."

Kathryn didn't heed her. Joffy would forgive her like he always did. It was Robbie and Steffy he got angry with, not her. Never her. Joffy loved her, he called her the most precious girl in all the seven kingdoms and treated her like she was his full sibling.

"I pwomise I wont mama." She said with a toothy smile.

"What is so funny my lady?" Margaret asked after seeing her former charge give her only daughter an amused smile.

"When I was little you remember how I used to play with dolls and spend my days reading, now my daughter spends her days doing all the opposite."

"Not for long." Margaret said taking Kathryn to her bed that was next to her mothers and putting her to sleep. "Say your prayers." She whispered in the child's ear. She nodded and closed her eyes, joining both hands together then opening them, she sent a kiss at Lady' Salisbury's and her mother's way.

"She knows her Latin and her mother's native tongue well enough and she is very good at writing French. This is just a phase, it will pass on as the rest."

"I don't think so. I've seen how Joffrey encourages her. He sees her as the brother he wished he had."

Joffrey loved Kathryn with a passion that had never been seen between brother and sister. They did not see each other as rivals like he and his brothers did but as true siblings, friends, partners, and maybe something more. Maybe her daughter would end up becoming like her great-aunt Margaret of Burgundy had become, a Yorkist partner in crime or as Margaret of Austria, regent and co-regent for her nephew Charles.

She could only hope. The South was not as lenient towards women as her mother's birthplace. Someday my daughter will find peace.

"Joffrey likes her, I can't say the same for her other siblings, they are completely Robert's." She said, hiding her disgust.

She tried so hard to love them, she tried so hard to love those little two dark haired boys but every man who saw them could see that every bastard and trueborn son of Robert had his imprint on them. None of his sons except for Joffrey, but that was a special case, were left anything of their mothers'.

Mary hated her husband for that. Kathryn at least while dark haired inherited more of her mother's Spanish heritage which made Mary completely devoted to her, but her sons were just mini Roberts, little Baratheon stags that stuck their horns wherever they went. Robert educated them well. Little royal princes who believed it was their right to possess everything by their birth alone. If she was their nurse she would spank them and beat them.

She closed her eyes, hating herself for saying these words. It was not their fault, it was their father and hers in a way for not having more spirit to fight her father. Her mother had not been afraid to go to her death poverty and ill stricken. She had God by her side and she said as long as you had God by her side that was all that mattered. But she was not that strong. She still had that illusion that underneath that cruel exterior her father still yearned for her, that as soon as he saw her their old bonds would resurface but they never did. Her father hated her, he hated how she reminded him of the woman who stalled his much desired marriage to a woman he'd yearned to marry for more than seven years. Ironically though, that woman was the same her father killed.

But he killed both of them. -She thought. My mother in poverty deprived from her daughter and buried as a Princess, not as the true Queen of England. And Bess' mother through a sword.

She hated her father. She never thought it would come to this but she had to confess that she did. He had allowed her former governess to come but when she asked if she could convince Robert to allow her chaplain back he said 'no'. 'Until you learn to behave herself' -Like it was her fault that Robert still clung to that memory of his lost Stark lover.

When the Starks had come to the Southern capital, Mary could not wait for them to leave. Amidst the smile and great showmanship she displayed, she wanted nothing more than to see their large brood disappear out of thin air. She didn't like Ned Stark and she absolutely despised his wife who in her view did not deserve the loving husband and harmonious marriage she got. The woman came from an upstart family. The Tullys always thought of themselves as more important than others and typical of them, this woman displayed their arrogance carrying herself like she was some Queen.

If Mary wanted she could walk with her head high above them. But you can't, she said to herself, because you know Robert would kill you if you insult his precious friend and his family.

Margaret pulled a seat next to Mary and sat. "Do not be despairing Your Highness." She grabbed her hands. "Your children are half Tratasmara and half Tudor, they have a great lineage through you."

"Yes, a lineage of usurpers and more usurpers."

"Mary, I never told you this but when I agreed to come here it was not because I had no other purpose. I came here for you. You are the last of our line who has inherited the Yorkist strength."

"You think I do?"

"I don't think, I am sure of it. I never met my grandfather but I remember my father speak often of him. He was a brave, conniving yes but brave and always did what he felt was right, never deterred from his mission even when others said he was wrong. Your mother said you inherited her mother's strength but it's really your great-great grandfather's you inherited. Through your children his spirit will live on, even if they have Robert's blood."

Mary let go of the former Countess' hands and embraced her. It made her feel proud, even hopeful that in her still lied the promise of a better future. Looking at her sleeping daughter, she was convinced of lady Salisbury's words.


End file.
